Mystery Time! The Tale of Vincent's Cape!
by deathbyhugs
Summary: What could possibly ever go wrong with Vincent's cape? Where did it come from? What does it do? And why is it so mysterious? Only Vincent himself knows, but oh boy is he in for a surprise!


Author Babble: A story about Vincent! _EEE!_ Okay, this story takes place during Dirge of Cerberus but to anyone who hasn't played the game, you shouldn't have any problems understanding some things. Please read onwards and drop off a review in the submit review mail box. Kukukukukukuku.

**Disclaimer**: I most certainly do own Dirge of Cerberus, a PS2, and a TV to play it on, but I do _NOT_ own Vincent Valentine... sadly. Though one day I shall kidnap him... when pigs fly...

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**Mystery Time! The Tale of Vincent's Cape!**

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Winding hallways passed by, one after another, the same amount of brick walls set between each half-lit corridor. It smelt incredibly damp down here, so much that small puddles of moisture gathered where ever the concrete floor dipped even the slightest. Everything echoed, bouncing off the walls and continuing on for what seemed like forever, and small shadows, most likely mice... or rats, scurried around.

It was cold here, but _he _never noticed anymore. Immortality granted him that and it was something he both enjoyed and loathed at the same time. He escaped the hellish nightmare three years ago, the seemingly never ending void of impassible time... but now... he was back again.

Back at the Shinra Manor.

Another corner passed by as Vincent made his way to what he hoped would be a place of interest, something to quench his thirst for information about what exactly was going on... and about himself. Finally, up ahead, Vincent could make out the end of the hallway which, unsurprisingly, lead to an old wooden door.

The immortal man, who held Chaos within his body, stood in front of the only obstacle blocking him from pressing forwards, and turned the rusted gold painted doorknob with his free hand, having holstered Cerberus. A near pitch-black room greeted him, something easy to fix by simply using a small amount of thunder materia.

Vincent grabbed onto the firm grip of Cerberus, flipping it out of its holster while twirling the dangerous weapon around his index finger. He aimed perfectly, his target a small cable sprouting from a brick wall only ten feet away. Upon pulling the well used trigger, thunder energy surged forwards and within seconds sparks flew everywhere, lighting up the room then slowly they died out. Vincent happened to look sideways and noticed the outline of a light switch to his right.

He flipped it 'on' with his metal clad hand and frowned when no light came forth. He had just fried the lines...

_Hmph._

Frowning, Vincent decided to forget about the power and walked towards a thin line of light that skirted out from under a door up ahead. He opened it, cautiously at first, then kicked the door open, revealing a mostly empty wide spread area with nothing but oil canisters scattered around.

A few well paced steps landed him in the middle of the room. He stood out like a sore thumb –seriously– amidst the bland painting of cold, nearly deteriorating walls. Vincent kicked a few oil canisters away, which had been stacked nearly five feet tall, and pulled back his gold plated foot once a large _CCCRRRAAACCCKKK_ echoed throughout the room.

Oil canisters rolled down as the pile collapsed, revealing a tall vile of what seemed to be makou. Vincent immediately jumped backwards, but not before the iridescent liquid spilt onto his crimson coloured cape.

_Damn._

The ex-Turk stood completely still, inspecting his outrageous outfit. Nothing seemed wrong... until, without even the assistance of a stray draft, his cape began to flap around. He stared at it with indifference before noticing makou embedding itself his 'highly fashionable' outfit accessory.

His cape was coming to life!

"_Feed me!_" A deep voice came from the moving fabric, only causing Vincent to furrow his brows. This couldn't be happening...

The ripped ends of his cape moved out of his line of vision. Vincent cocked his head to the side, but couldn't see anything, fearing that the brought to life outfit accessory would commit mass murder or something, he moved his body and soon Vincent found himself walking in circles. Trying to look at his cape...

"This is ridiculous," he muttered. All mindless spinning around ceased and the expert marksman went back to his usual calm and collected self... _almost._

"_Feed me!_" Boomed the cape.

At that moment, going completely unnoticed by Vincent (he was too concerned over his 'sanity'), a door on the far side of the room opened. A Deep Ground soldier stepped forward, gun drawn, his target Vincent and Vincent alone... but... didn't he hear another voice just a second ago?

"_Feed me!_"

The Deep Ground soldier lowered his high powered assault rifle and slowly stepped forwards. He was now one hundred percent convinced that he had just heard Vincent Valentine's cape talk. It _was_ true! He did have super _freaky_ powers!

"Halt!" He yelled, too bewildered by the situation to even raise his gun.

Vincent slowly turned around, his metal-free hand resting on the grip of Cerberus. The soldier sure did look _pathetic_ and now he had Deep Ground _and_ a possessed cape to take care of! Great! Just wonderful!

Before Vincent could do anything he was pulled backwards... not by the enemy, not by some nonexisting fiend, but by his own cape. It billowed out towards the Deep Ground soldier, mumbling something about 'food'.

Apparently clothing articles could eat now...

The Deep Ground soldier, without warning, grabbed one of the torn ends of Vincent's possessed cape. He bent down, peering under it and looked for anything odd. There had to be a fan... or a microphone around here somewhere. But who walks around with a _fan_ and a _microphone_ sticking out of their _back_?

As the soldier found out, Vincent was one of those people that _didn't_ walk around with a _fan_ and a _microphone_ sticking out of their _back_. There was no other explanation, Vincent Valentine did indeed harbour Chaos' powers...in the form of a cape, it seemed.

Vincent kicked the Deep Ground soldier away, Cerberus now drawn. He eyed his enemy suspiciously and comfortably rested his finger on the trigger of his gun. Even the slightest amount of pressure would send the man into a place reserved only for flames and cackling fiends.

"It's Chaos!" The soldier screamed, raising his weapon and shot a hole through Vincent's cape, fear entangled in his shaky voice. "Die! Demon material!"

Vincent grabbed his cape, which had now fallen down to rest against his back and glared at the damage done to it. Crimson eyes shifted to a now terrified Deep Ground soldier, anger dancing through them like brilliant waves of fire.

_How dare he!_

A critical hit to the soldier ended Vincent's anger... and ended the pitiful life of his enemy. Chaos? His cape? Highly unlikely.

Vincent left the room, his cape flowing naturally behind him as he went down more winding hallways, still possessing no information or an explanation. But he _did_ know one thing for sure!

_Nobody_ got away with shooting his highly fashionable cape, _ever!_

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